That's How a Carnival Grows
by Mystical Authoress
Summary: AU, takes place after the fic 'Orphaned by Heaven'-please read that fic before starting to read this one. This is a series of oneshots centering around Hell's carnival and its carnies-where anything is possible from dying multiple times to forming the oddest bonds with other poor souls...
1. Her Loyal Beast

**Author note: I do not own Count Cain: Godchild. **

**This is basically a collection of oneshots taking place after the fic 'Orphaned by Heaven.' If you have not read this fic, you probably should-it's vital to know what roles in the carnival of Hell that certain characters are playing as...**

**Warning: Carnival AU, violence, various pairings, spoilers for the Count Cain/Godchild series**

**Constructive Criticism would be great, and I hope that you read, review and enjoy! Thanks!**

* * *

_**That's How a Carnival Grows**_

* * *

_**1. Her Loyal Beast**_

Eyelids shot open as he found himself on the ground, painfully lying on his side. He didn't bother moving for a moment, and tried to assess his surroundings with the blurred vision he still had from before he fell unconscious.

Did he die back there, in the Big Top? He should not be able to die-he was already dead from Jizabel killing him before he ended up in Hell! Then again, this place _was_ Hell, and anything was possible-including dying for a second time.

A second time? How in the world did he die a second time? The first time was when Jizabel took his brain out of his body, and the second time was-

Right. The second time was when those carnies in the Big Top leaped on him and slashed him to bits, even gouging out his left eye in the process. One of them must have stabbed him fatally-how else would he have died? Or perhaps it was due to all the injuries and no treatment that he died. He wasn't sure of how he died, but he was sure that he probably _did_ die back there now.

Was he even in the Big Top now? He painfully and shakily supported his scarred, half-naked self on his hands and knees. He slowly raised his head, still blinking blurs out of his vision as he looked about. He didn't see anything but darkness for a moment, but shapes started to outline themselves in front of him. Silver, vertical lines curved inwards and connected together as they reached the top. The sight made him realize where he was.

He was in a cage.

He let a growl of frustration escape his mouth, but he felt his throat tingle slightly. His right hand came up to his throat, grasping at it gently as he felt a scar right across the skin. Was his throat slit during the time when the carnies attacked him? He wasn't sure of that, but it was definitely possible.

He let the feel of the rough, rocky ground beneath him guide where he crawled, and bit his tongue lightly when he felt his knee scrape against something. He did his best to ignore it-it probably was scraped against one of the stupid rocks, anyway-and he made his way to the side of the dome-shaped cage closest to him. Leaning against the bars, he pondered about how he got in this cage.

Did someone carry him here? If so, most likely it was a few of the carnies that carried him to the cage. The Ringmaster probably wouldn't bother carrying Cassandra himself, and Cassandra doubted Meridianna would have the strength to carry him. Emile was out of the question (far too short and wimpy to carry him), and he also doubted Rebecca would want to carry him, either, especially with the fact that she was already on crutches.

He closed his eyes, shaking away the worries in his head. He needed to find a light-it would help him see better. Maybe a mirror, at least...then he could see what he looked like.

"So...the Beast is finally _awake._" A voice drawled out of nowhere, and the Ringmaster walked out of the shadows and into his view. Cassandra growled at the Coffinmaker's/Ringmaster's presence, not wishing to have any company right now. "You're going to be more rudely awakened from now on, so you better have enjoyed that time to yourself while it lasted." The Ringmaster remarked, standing in front of the cage and behind the bars, where Cassandra couldn't touch him.

The ex-Hierophant was unsure if he should try to say anything. He didn't even know if he was even _capable_ of speaking-the scar across his throat made him think twice about that issue.

Before he could make a decision on whether or not he would attempt to speak, though, the Fortuneteller came into his view, walking towards the Ringmaster's side. He gripped the iron bars tightly, staring at her quietly.

There was Meridianna, standing there and looking at him with a small hint of concern on her face, mixed with a slight cringe-most likely towards Cassandra's current appearance. She was standing there, looking so graceful and lovely and...

Cassandra felt so naked and ugly all at once, with the scars and lack of clothing. He felt his face heat up with shame as he let go of the bars and tried to cover himself with his hands.

What was wrong with him? He never usually felt this way when unclothed in front of others-it wasn't like him. It wasn't like him at all to feel shame and embarrassment due to his appearance. If that was so, why did he feel embarrassed now?

He didn't notice the clicking of several locks, or the footsteps of the Ringmaster walking closer to him until he stood right beside him. The Beast looked up at him, the dark eyes glaring at the Ringmaster with complete hatred. The Ringmaster saw more than that, though. He saw fear in those eyes, and as much as he hated to admit it, he was starting to like his position of Ringmaster a bit more.

The Ringmaster threw down a chunk of raw meat in front of the Beast.

"Eat it." The Ringmaster commanded. His dark eyes never wavered as he spoke-he was obviously serious about this.

Cassandra just glared back at him. _Do you actually think I will take orders from you?_

He got kicked in the face, before he felt himself getting stepped on lightly. A memory flashed through his mind-and he remembered stepping on the Trump Card's face like this...

"Don't _make_ me repeat it again."

Cassandra swallowed, and knew resisting would not work in his favor. Going along with orders would not work, either-that was what he figured. Slowly, reluctantly, he lowered his head towards the flesh and bit into it, pulling it apart with teeth and bare hands. The process continued for a while in silence, but Cassandra knew in his mind that if he vomited, if he hesitated any further, or tried to spit it out, the Ringmaster would not be pleased.

If this was going to save him from getting a beating, he might as well take that opportunity. This was Hell, after all, and things were not going to be easy for him here.

He managed to devour the meat without vomiting or trying to spit it out. He felt his stomach turn into knots, and he choked a little in the realization that they were using his title of the Beast to treat him as such. Those carnies would never see him as a human, but rather as an animal-an inhuman beast.

The Ringmaster had walked out of the cage and closed the door before he spoke up again. "Oh, I almost forgot something." He muttered quietly, as if he was telling Cassandra a secret that should never be told to anyone else in existence. "You liked power and enslaving others-now you will watch as you become a slave yourself, and watch your power be given to someone else. From now on, Meridianna will be you master aside from me. You better obey her commands, Beast."

As the Ringmaster walked away and into the darkness, Meridianna looked at her hands, which now held the keys to Cassandra's cage. She then glanced at Cassandra, who just stared at her.

She hesitated, before stepping closer to the cage to make better eye contact with him.

"Well," She started, "I certainly wasn't expecting this."

Cassandra didn't pay attention to her words, and instead saw a scratch on her face. He growled a bit-the Ringmaster must have hurt her face after dealing with him, for trying to help him to escape. How _dare _he marr such beauty!

She extended a hand through the bars, and remembering what gentlemen did when such an action was made, Cassandra pulled it towards him and kissed it. Almost. He more of nibbled at her fingertips, licking them quietly as he gazed at her.

He found himself getting embarrassed over the idea of kissing that cut on her face, to make it better. He shook the thought away, not wanting to show any sign of weakness to anyone here in Hell.

* * *

"I can understand why the Ringmaster enslaved a pitiful creature like _you _to her."

If there was one person Cassandra found himself disliking more than the Ringmaster, it was Gilford the Gamemaster. The blond idiot had the nerve to go walk into the tent housing Cassandra's cage for the purpose of taunting him.

Cassandra heard about Gilford. The man had supposedly gone mad, but it much later turned out that he was drugged by one of the maids to supposedly go insane. Gilford used to be Meridianna's beloved as well, but he pushed her out of a tower and killed her. That alone made Cassandra want to hate him-for hurting Meridianna, mainly. How _dare _that man do that-

"I don't understand how she gets so used to your unnecessary presence, you Beast. You're so ugly and deformed, no one would want to look at you. I feel dirty already from looking at someone like you."

Wait, why did he even feel mad at Gilford about the fact that he hurt Meridianna emotionally and physically? Cassandra felt his face flush with shame and embarrassment again, and Gilford let out a laugh.

"Even you know how terrible you look-at least you're not that stupid a beast as people think you are."

He just wanted to go and rip out Gilford's face right now. It was unfortunate, though, that he had no idea how to destroy the locks that kept the cage door shut. If he did, he would have taken every opportunity possible to kill Gilford, no matter the punishment that followed.

* * *

After hours and hours of trying, he did manage to tear off the locks. He cautiously and painfully crawled out of the cage, and then he steadied himself on two feet. Looking around to check if anyone saw him, he crept out of the tent and into the cold air of the carnival outside.

It was nighttime, now, and he wasn't sure how long he had been in Hell for. It must have been at least a few days since he became Meridianna's slave. She didn't really make him do anything, though-she just watched him devour raw meat and she tried to talk with him. He couldn't really answer-he did try to speak once, but his voice came out so terribly that he shut up immediately as soon as he heard it. Even though he never answered her in speech, he tried to make up for it with nuzzling against an extended hand or with his facial expressions-dang it, he had a hard time trying to cover up times when he was embarrassed...

He wasn't really sure if she was _okay_ with the physical responses he gave her, but he figured it was better than nothing. She was the only one he could really trust in Hell, unlike everyone else, after all.

She wasn't as bad as the other carnies. Unlike Gilford, or the other carnies, she never mocked, taunted, or physically abused him. She never did any of that. The closest she got to that was whenever she had to give him a few scoldings whenever he upset her.

He shivered as he wandered around the carnival tents. Walking about without a coat and shirt was definitely not a good idea, as he now found out the hard way. Some carnies passed him by, but they didn't seem to notice him-perhaps it was because it was too dark, or they were too exhausted to deal with him.

He saw a sign attached to a nearby tent, and he ducked inside the tent of the Fortuneteller, Meridianna.

He didn't really know why he went into her tent. She did say she didn't like killing, after all, and therefore he felt it was safe to assume that she wouldn't kill him instantly if he accidentally woke her up. He was too tired to try to find Gilford anyway-he would find the stupid carnie the next time he went out, and rip his face off. Oh yes...Cassandra found himself smiling briefly at the fantasy. That idiot was definitely going to get it the next time Cassandra saw him.

He had never been to her tent before; usually she would always walk over to his tent to check on him. He bet that her tent probably had comfier blankets, pillows, and something that could be seen more like a bed and not a worn out mattress with springs sticking out of it.

Sure enough, he was correct about the interior of her tent. The blankets, pillows and bed all looked so cozy and frilly that he was tempted to steal one of the pillows and run back to his cage. He was very, very tempted-could he not have at least a decent place to rest his head, even if he was the Beast?

Maybe he could just sneak into the bed, pray that Meridianna didn't wake up, and sleep there for the night. He was willing to risk a punishment for this-it was too tempting to pass up. He cautiously lifted the covers-

And came face-to-face with her, staring at him with a bit of confusion and frustration.

_"How_ did you get into my tent?" She asked not-so-sleepily. Crap. Had she not been sleeping when he entered her tent?

He hated having to speak, but he figured he could not just try to give her an innocent look. That wouldn't fool her.

"B-broke the-" He winced as he felt his throat tingle again, in pain. "Broke the locks." He managed to say, before he went silent. There. That was a true statement. Wanting to sleep here was another truth, but he was sure she probably had that idea in her mind for a reason as of why he was here.

There was silence for a moment, before she let out a sigh. "Fine, you..." She leaned back a bit before speaking again. "You can sleep here tonight. I don't want to pick a fight with you now, and obviously you're not going to leave if I tell you to right now. You're going back to your cage tomorrow morning once you wake up, alright?" She muttered quietly.

He wasn't expecting that. But it was a nice surprise. He immediately crawled onto the bed, enjoying the warm, silky sheets against his bare skin. Making himself comfortable, he turned towards her to maybe give her a physical token of his gratitude.

_"No touching._ Alright?"

Blast. So much for wanting to touch her face with a hand and maybe kiss it, too, as thanks. He let out a sigh of disappointment, before closing his eyes and succumbing to sleep.

* * *

Meridianna woke up again, to feel another body lying beside her. Turning to her right, she figured out who it was.

Right. The Beast. He had the nerve to go and sneak into her tent. Who knows what he might have been up to before she woke up-she hoped he wasn't trying to mess with her. She wouldn't forgive him for that. Having herself killed by one that she loved before, and being killed to protect another she loved was enough for her. She would never let her guard down around anyone again.

Sitting up, she looked at the Beast a bit more closely. The man was asleep, a relaxed look overtaking his face. Looking even closer, she realized that he wasn't so relaxed-there was a nightmare in his mind, and she had the feeling that he was probably struggling through some old memories. She had problems with that too-they came to her in dreams and nightmares while she slept. He was pale as a sheet, and he even seemed to be shivering occasionally-perhaps he was dreaming of his first experience in Hell.

At least he wasn't trying to touch her while she slept. That was a relief, that he obeyed that order. She sometimes had her difficulties with keeping him in line, but a good scolding seemed to work whenever things got too rough (with the occasional slap in the face or two, of course).

From the way he looked so pale, as she realized after a moment, she wondered if he was sick. Cautiously and slowly, she laid a hand on his forehead-

And was greeted in response by being literally flipped out of her bed and landing on the ground on top of the Beast. He appeared to be staring at her with the most puzzled look on his face that she had ever seen-obviously, he had no idea what was going on.

"Don't do that." She uttered quietly with a scowl. "Do _not_ go pulling me off the bed with you! Is that understood?" She snapped. At least she wasn't underneath him, but this was still an embarrassing situation to fall into.

The Beast let out a hot breath on her face, before nodding once.

"Really," She started, closing her eyes for a moment. "I shouldn't have let you-"

She felt her face being pushed forwards by a gentle, but heavy hand on the back of her head. Opening her eyes in confusion, she felt a pair of lips kiss the scar on her face. The word _danger _immediately screamed its way into her mind, and she took the initiative to do something about it.

Harshly slapping him in the face, she glared at him even more. "What in the bloody hell was that for!?" She snapped. Cassandra pulled back, let go of her, and averted his eyes from looking at her. "Give me a warning at least before attempting anything like that." She muttered. The Beast had made a move on her, damn it, and she wasn't going to let that slide.

"I just-" The Beast choked on his words a bit, before muttering, "I just wanted to make it feel better."

Oh. So it wasn't like he was trying to make a move on her, after all. Sympathy or pity, perhaps? Whatever the reason, he did have a point-the scar the Ringmaster put on her face didn't sting so much anymore, now.

Letting out a sigh, she motioned for him to climb off her, before she sat up and made eye contact with him. "Thank you for trying to offer some sort of comfort, but honestly, warn me before you attempt such things. Alright?"

He just nodded a bit in response.

* * *

"Well, _well,_ if it isn't the _lovely_ Fortuneteller and her _beastly underdog..."_

"Shut up, Gamemaster." Meridianna snapped, glaring at him even more than she glared at Cassandra earlier. "Why don't you go and prance about somewhere else? The Beast and I are busy."

That wasn't a complete lie-Meridianna did want to get Cassandra back to his cage as soon as she could. She wasn't sure if he was even allowed to wander outside of his cage in the first place, anyway. She did not want to spend time with the Gamemaster-that itself was obvious

The blond man smirked, stepping in front of her. "Come on," He drawled, "Do you really not have any time to spend with me, dear Meridianna? Why don't you forget that ugly fiend and spend your precious, precious time with a handsome man like me?"

"Gilford..." She took a step back, still glaring at him. "I'm warning you. Stay_ away."_

He kept smiling, and grabbed her by the wrist. _"No."_

Before she could slap him in the face, Cassandra did that for her.

Scratch that, he literally tore off the left side of Gilford's face. Blood immediately gushed out and dripped onto the ground, and the blond let out a howl of pain as he stepped back several steps in recoil. He clutched his face in pain, letting out another pained moan, before glaring at Cassandra.

"You-you bloody-" Gilford snarled as rage overtook his face. "I'll get you back for that, you know!"

"You deserved it, you fool." Meridianna snapped back as she walked over to him. "Don't you ever try to hit on me like that again, or I'll have Cassandra rip out your heart next time." With that being said, she finished it with a hard kick to his knee. The Gamemaster was sent sprawling onto the floor, howling in more pain and spreading more blood onto the ground as he fell face first.

Cassandra glanced at the other carnies, who happened to take sight of the scene, before looking at Meridianna, who grabbed him by the wrist and dragged him away from Gilford.

"Come on. Let's get back before things get uglier." She muttered quietly. "If anyone asks us why Gilford is in his bloody state, I'll tell them that I ordered you to."

The Beast thought he saw a brief smile on her face, as if she approved of his actions, but he couldn't be too sure. He just nodded in response, and followed her.

* * *

"I heard that the Gamemaster is in the infirmary tent for having half his face torn off, as well as being kicked in the knee."

Of _course_ the Ringmaster would find out about it eventually. He stood in front of the empty cage as he spoke to them, his arms crossed and a whip at his disposal.

"I ordered him to. The Gamemaster was harassing me. Of course it would make sense for me to order the Beast to go teach him a lesson." She told him, her voice never wavering as she spoke. "Is there anything wrong with that, Ringmaster?"

The Ringmaster glanced at Cassandra, before speaking again. "Well, a servant is to follow the master's wishes, and if you obviously wished for Gilford to get out of your hair, Cassandra did follow accordingly, I suppose. I can see that he's becoming more of a useful right hand to you, so I have no complaints if that's all."

"Actually..." It was Meridianna's turn to glance at Cassandra, who looked at her with some confusion. "I think he's more of a right _arm."_ She paused, her face scrunching up for a moment, before she continued. "I don't think he could ever be a right hand that could disposed of when it's tarnished. Not yet."

"Oh?" The Ringmaster appeared to smirk, and Cassandra remembered all the times he smirked. The Ringmaster sometimes reminded Cassandra of his old self; full of power and confident in his plans. "Your right arm, hm? Well, isn't _that_ most interesting..."

The Ringmaster said nothing more, and left the two alone. His eyes, however, commanded Meridianna to send Cassandra back into his cage.

The Beast sauntered through the cage door, letting his back face her quietly.

"Cassandra?"

He turned back, to see Meridianna extend a hand to him. He knew what to do, and he gently went down on a knee, and licked her fingertips as he gazed at her for a moment. His eyes closed, his back turned, and the cage door was shut with the clicking of locks.

If he was going to be a beast, and to be enslaved to someone as well, he might as well be Meridianna's loyal beast. Maybe, sometime soon, it would work to his advantage.

Maybe being her beast already had worked to his advantage, after all.

* * *

**Author note: So, that kicks off the beginning of this little oneshot series. The whole series will take place starting from after 'Orphaned by Heaven' and will end kind of post-Godchild, so there will be some certain people that will visit Hell's carnival eventually. Thanks for reading! **


	2. A Fix

**_2. A Fix_**

He loathed this part of his role as the Beast.

A heavy foot sent him sprawling to the dirt ground and slamming against the bars of his iron cage. Pain radiated through his body, and he let out a groan of discomfort as he felt the metal collar around his neck tighten. He couldn't get himself to speak up about the pain; the Ringmaster would not listen to his cries, and the collar also prevented him from speaking besides his slashed throat.

"I am telling you for the last time, you fool, that you will either _eat_ that flesh or _starve_ and get a worse beating. Your choice."

Cassandra let out a grunt in response. Even if he did obey the Ringmaster, he would be beat up anyway. Why else did he usually bother to not resist the commands given to him?

Cassandra felt his face get pressed against the cold body, stained with blood and with organs ripped out from its chest. It wasn't going to eat itself-and it would rot if not eaten soon enough. Cassandra didn't like the taste of rotting corpses- who would? The corpses rotted faster in hell than they did buried six feet under the ground. At least if he ate the flesh right away, it wouldn't taste like he was eating mold.

Eating corpses that were not completely rotted was a privilege in Hell. At least, that was what he figured. Getting the taste of popcorn was even rarer than that, and it was only if Meridianna had the time and freedom to go grab a bag of popcorn and sneak it back to his tent without anyone else knowing-especially Viola, who didn't like thieves for personal and obvious reasons.

He hesitantly licked the icy flesh, before he bit into it. He repulsed the taste-why would anyone not hate the taste of human flesh, after all?-but he did not dare try to pull away. The Ringmaster was watching, and if Cassandra did anything to displease him further at this rate, he would get a worse beating than the one he already received.

He hated this. Being on his knees, like a dog-it was such a degrading position, and the Ringmaster and Beast both knew that well. The man who was once a master of all, a man of high power, was on knees eating dead meat off the ground. How the mighty have fallen.

Cassandra looked up at the Ringmaster halfway through eating, and he glared at the smirking face. The Coffinmaker must really enjoy his new position of power, and it was so obvious from the look on his face. Cassandra looked away-that smirk reminded himself of his past glory, and he didn't want to look at that scar-covered man right now. If there was another thing he loathed about the Ringmaster, it was this-had his brownish-black locks not been so wild, and had the scars all over his skin never existed, as well as the shabby clothing he wore in his old life, he probably would have made for an_ almost_ perfect copy of Cassandra Gladstone himself.

"Why do you gaze at me, Beast?"

Cassandra looked downwards, realizing his mistake, but Grifford merely pulled his chin upwards with one hand.

"Why do you gaze at me?" The Ringmaster repeated quietly.

Cassandra didn't answer. He didn't want to answer. He didn't want the Ringmaster to know, to know about-

"You're jealous of me because of our reversed situation, aren't you?" The Coffinmaker answered the question for him. "I'm sure you must have dreamt of it when you were still alive; dreamt of being in this position while the lower classes were kneeling to you. But now it's the reverse of that, isn't it? _You're_ bowing down to me, and..._I'm_ the one who reigns this place, this carnival. Are you_ jealous_, Cassandra?"

Cassandra couldn't hold it in anymore.

With a growl and clicking of sharpened claws, he lunged at the Ringmaster, desiring to tear him apart on the spot. He didn't care about the punishment that followed-he wanted to _rip him apart! Rip him to pieces! Chew on him, spit him out, and step on the remains as he pleased-_

He felt a heavy arm strike him backwards, before the spikes of the cat o' nine dug into his chest once, twice, several times.

When the spikes were removed from his skin and never returned, it was only then that Cassandra looked up to see the Ringmaster say nothing and leave him alone. Silence followed, with nothing but a rotting corpse to keep him company. He looked down at the corpse, then at his bloody hands, and he closed his eyes, restraining them from spewing out humiliated tears.

The worst part of this was not the beatings that he received, and it wasn't the eating of dead corpses either.

It was the silence, for it made him realize his increasing animalistic behaviour. It wasn't like he wanted to do this-he _never _would, if he had the choice-

He shook his head. He hated struggling with his thoughts like this; it made him feel that he was deteriorating, disappearing, shrinking into nothing but a mindless doll. He was no doll. He would not let it happen-he would prevent it for as long as he could. _If_ he could.

He needed a fix. He needed someone to beat him into unconsciousness, drug him with something strange so that he couldn't tell if he was dreaming or not, or to bring him fresh meat. The latter of the three was an option that was most likely to happen.

If he had heard correctly, from overhearing other carnies passing by his tent, three new people had approached Hell's carnival and might blindly run towards his grasp.

Ripping off the metal collar, he deposited it on the ground before curling on his side, pressing his knees against his chest.

He hoped they would come soon. It would be a treat to eat something _fresh_ for once.

* * *

"Stupid, bloody map..." Jolene nearly cursed, but reminded herself it wasn't ladylike to do so. She knew she was lost, and if there was an exit to this carnival she would take it. The carnies that she passed all watched her with curiosity, wanting to see where the newest visitor was headed. Some carnies tried to approach her and offer her things-a small snake, another map, even a bag of popcorn, but she refused them all. How dare they try to approach her. Did they have no idea who she was? She was the trophy wife of the mayor's bodyguard-how dare they accost her with their staring and their so-called gifts!

"Excuse me, beautiful madam?" A handsome voice sent her turning to her left, gazing at a younger man with the lightest shade of blond. He smiled at her gently, and his porcelain skin glowed in the dark light of the carnival grounds. "Are you lost, perhaps?" He asked quietly.

"Well, yes..." She found herself at a loss for words. "Can you help me, please? She managed to say after a moment. Perhaps this man could be of help, if not any of the other carnies.

The handsome carnie paused, before smiling. "Well, I can't exactly help you, but doesn't mean I have to harm you either, right?" He responded. "I'm very pleased to meet you, madam. Gilford the Gamemaster is who I am. May I inquire for a name?"

She hesitated, but then answered. Surely, answering a simple question as that would be alright... "Jolene."

Gilford took her hand and kissed it. "Dear madam, it is as if fate has brought us together!" He cooed quietly. She smiled a bit at this compliment-it reminded her of the man with the hat and cape.

Now that she thought of the man, didn't this man look a bit similar to the one she had taken pleasure in being with every night, when she was in London? Gilford's attire did include a nice top hat and cape as well, but the black-and-white striped vest underneath, and the white shirt and dark trousers, were different than what her beloved wore. Even though the Gamemaster was a carnie, he must be of a higher position than the low-life carnies that kept approaching her with 'gifts.'

She looked up, to see two doors in front of her, as well as a black-haired girl in crutches that stood beside the door to the right. _They were not here before..._

"As I am a master of games, I am obligated to play any sort of game with the visitors that encounter me." Gilford continued, gesturing to the doors. "Pick a door, madam, any door. One of them leads to pain and despair, and the other leads to-well, who knows where it goes?" He let out a small fit of laughter after this, his smile a little more energetic than the one from earlier. "I would recommend the door to the left-it looks charming, doesn't it?" He beamed.

He was right-the door to the left did look neatly painted, with a small window attached. Jolene tried to look through the window, but all she could see was mist.

"Don't listen to him," The young girl snapped, and Jolene turned to face her. "He's nothing but a womanizing fop who just wants to trick you!"

Gilford glared at the girl a little, before looking at Jolene with a small smile. "Ignore her," He told Jolene. "She's quite a bratty little girl, I will admit. Trust me. Do you seriously want to head through the door belonging to a brat?"

Jolene glanced at the door that the girl stood in front of. It was nothing but ugly, rotted wood, and the window was cracked. Jolene was sure if she simply kicked the door, it would most likely fall down in an instant.

She didn't need to look carefully-it was so obvious which one was probably more dangerous, right? She took a deep breath, before opening the door to her left.

Gilford and Rebecca both didn't hesitate to shove her straight through the door and slam it shut behind her, locking it so that she wouldn't be able to exit the way she came. Gilford and Rebecca both let out shrieks of laughter as the 'visitor' let out a scream of shock.

"How dare you!" Jolene screeched, banging her fists against the door. "How dare you harass me! You'd best apologize!"

"We were only playing a _game, _madam!" Gilford's voice crooned from behind the door. "You made your choice, and there is no going back once you've made your decision!"

"So true, indeed!" Rebecca giggled in agreement.

"Bollocks." Jolene cursed, turning towards her new surroundings. It was dimly lit, but she couldn't see any lanterns hanging about to light her way. She shivered, and exhaled as she folded her arms about herself-it was much colder in here, and there was a sort of smell that she didn't enjoy. It was no sort of perfume-in fact, if she wasn't mistaken, was it something _rotting _in here? "Disgusting." She uttered under her breath, taking a few steps forward.

Her foot kicked against something heavy, and she froze. The rotting stench was coming from whatever she nearly stepped on. Inhaling sharply, she gazed downwards-

And saw the rotting, moulding corpse of a man. Letting out a cry of fright, she jumped back slightly, looking away in disgust. She then hesitated, before gazing at the corpse again. The face was familiar-who was it? There was a scar on his face-

-And then she remembered. The kiss with the man in the cape. The knives hidden away in the flowers. Garu, with his gun-

A low growl and the rattling of metal links echoed from the shadows. Looking up, she backed up a few steps, but found her back against a row of vertical, steel bars. Turning around, she noticed the rusty closed padlock, and her eyes widened in realization. Looking back, a figure convulsed a bit, slithering out of the shadows. Dark amber eyes glimmered like a witch's fire as they rested their sight on her.

"Don't you dare come any closer, you _fiend!"_ She shouted, glaring at the creature in front of her as her voice escalated into panic. _"Don't you dare-"_

She never finished her sentence.

* * *

The Beast let out a low breath as more blood seeped onto the ground.

Ripping out that jugular vein really helped to shut her up. He didn't like her voice, he didn't like her at all, just like the two horrid men beforehand.

At least this one had some meat on her. The first was nothing but a ball of fat, and the second was too lean for his taste. This one was just...right. _Perfect._

Cassandra hesitated, glancing at the fresh corpse lying on the ground in front of him. He was no animal. He wouldn't be eating human beings. But this was Hell, and Hell had other plans for him.

He swallowed his pride, before ripping an arm off the corpse, cringing at the odd sounds the action created. He didn't enjoy it, but as a beast, did he have any choice? No. He did not.

He stopped thinking, and instead prepared to eat. He didn't want this one to start rotting anytime soon, after all. He _was _hungry, and didn't want to deny himself anything that was edible at the moment.


End file.
